Demons and False Gods
by Malachi288
Summary: Warren, an outsider who has arrived in the city during the hunt, is searching for someone dear to him who has been lost in the city of Yharnam.
1. Chapter 1

The stench of blood was thick in the air as Warren wandered down the streets of Yarnham. He gripped the sword in his hand tight as he slowly walked, his eyes scanning every darkened corner for a demon to scream and charge. He had only been in the city for three hours, and he was already terrified, bloodsoaked, and wounded. A small gash on his arm still throbbed in pain each time he had to take a swing at one of the demons that rushed him.

They had to be demons. There was no way that the monstrosities that he was fighting were people. Even if they were, now they were nothing more than animals. They had to be monsters or demons. If not, Warren feared for his sanity and the state of his soul.

His father had always told Warren the tales of the cursed city of Yharnam, about how the town worships false gods who came from the beyond, and how the citizens of Yharnam had sacrificed their very humanity to become like their gods. Even with hearing these tales, Warren still had to come.

He first tried to find some locals who could point him in the direction of the Healing Church, but he only found crazed lunatics with hair tearing out of their very skin. They chased Warren deeper into the city, so much so that he soon became hopelessly lost in its brick labyrinthine architecture.

Every turn was filled with new horror. Rotting horses covered in flies. A group of beast men jabbering to themselves. Packs of blood-soaked dogs chasing after some poor person.

Luckily, he found a dead man with an old military saber jabbed into his back, a weapon the Warren eagerly took and thanked God for.

The dark halls of the city drug Warren deeper inside as he continued to search for a halfway rational person in the hell that was Yharnam.

"Beast! Back with ye!"

A beast man ran towards Warren, waving an axe in the air with its freakish elongated arm. Warren quickly jumped back, then moved forward and slashed at the beast, slicing at the demon across its arms.

The beast man wailed in pain and rage as he swung his axe through the air at Warren, who sidestepped out of the way but not before catching the tip of the blade across his abdomen. Warren wheezed as the pain of the wound left him breathless. The beast raised its axe to land the killing blow, but Warren thrust his arm forward, sinking his saber into the heart of the beast. The beast wavered as the life drained out of him and he fell to the ground, soaking the cobblestones in its blood.

Warren gave a sigh of relief, then clutched his stomach tightly and began down the street again, this time closely hugging the wall to support himself.

He soon reached a corner, but he didn't even have to turn to hear the mad ramblings of beasts. Warren touched his back to the wall, then slowly sunk to the ground. He stared at the cut in his flesh, watching as blood pooled itself inside before rolling out and soaking itself into his once white shirt. He grabbed at his stomach again, trying to hold in his own blood and failing.

"God why... why did Julia have to come here? This God forsaken place..."

New sounds reached Warren's ears as he heard the beast men yell, then shortly after hearing their bodies hit the cobblestone. Warren turned and peeked around to corner where the noises came from. Standing above the beasts was a blood-soaked man, wearing a cloth to cover his face and holding the strangest weapon Warren had ever seen. The weapon appeared to be a thick blade, with one half of it covered with thick triangles of metal that gave it a jagged edge while the other was sharp as a knife and glinted in the moonlight. With a flick of the man's wrist, the blade snapped onto its handle, leaving the jagged edge exposed.

Warren reached an arm out and gave a pitiful cry.

"Help... please..."

The stranger's head snapped in the direction of Warren, and hearing that the voice seemed sane, cautiously walked over and inspected Warren with his dark eyes.

Up close, Warren could see that the man wore what seemed to be common clothes, with a proper tie and vest in the same dull brown as his pants, but each of the articles of clothes had strange modifications to them. The vest and knees of the pants had thick leather stitched to them, and there was a multitude of leather belts and straps that held a dozen or so vials filled with a red liquid. Warren had no idea what to make of the man, and only hoped that if the man wished to kill him, he would do so quickly.

The man leaned down to Warren to inspect the wound.

"You're lucky. A tad deeper and you would be holding your guts."

"Can y-you help m-me? Please... I can pay."

The Bloodsoaked Man pulled the cloth from his face, showing a square jaw, thick nose, and a wide smile on his face. Three parallel scar marks that ran from the top of his right eye to his chin turned his good-natured smile into a grimace.

"Money won't do you any good on the night of a Hunt. The only thing that matters now is blood. And you seem to be losing yours."

The man pulled out a small glass vial with a needle on the bottom, the vial itself filled with dark blood.

"W-what are y-"

"Shhh. You'll be fine. This might pinch a bit."

The Bloodsoaked Man stabbed the vial into Wardens leg, making him gasp in pain before feeling the warmness of the blood flow through him. The man stood and wiped off his hands on his pants.

"There. All the help I can afford to give."

Warren stood as the man began walking away, amazed that his wound seemed almost nonexistent.

"Wait, please. I need to find the Healing Church. Could you point me the right way?"

The Bloodsoaked Man paused, thinking over his options before turning to face Warren again.

"To be honest, that's where I'm heading. I suppose that if you cause no trouble, you may follow."

"Oh thank you g-"

"But by the Blood, you stay behind me or I will gut you myself. I am not going to waste my vial supply on you."

Warren nodded in agreement. "Yes of course."

The Bloodsoaked Man sighed and gave Warren one more once over before placing his cloth back around his face. The man jogged of, yelling a quick "Keep up" before he did so. Warren followed suit and ran after the man, following him deeper into the bloodsoaked city of Yharnam.


	2. Chapter 2

"How did things get like this?"

Warren had just witnessed the Blood-soaked Man cut down a whole group of beast men, and he was still not used the blood that splashed on every surface. The Blood-soaked Man regained his composure and continued toward the Healing Church.

"I'm guessing you're not from here then?"

"No, sir. I traveled from Lovinton."

"That's far. What brought you here?"

"I'm looking for someone. Someone dear to me."

The Blood-soaked Man lifted up a hand as the pair neared a turned over carriage. The Blood-soaked Man made a motion for Warren to go around the right side of the carriage while he began to go around the left. Following orders, Warren slowly walked around the side, saber at the ready to fight what was to come.

The sight of the creature was like that of the beast men, but grotesque in size and manner. Its clothes were torn from its fat frame, and in its hand, it held one of the statues that could be seen throughout the architecture of the city. The lumbering creature turned to see Warren, then let out a deep scream before lifting the statue like a club. Warren was able to roll out of the way as the statue came crashing down, cracking both itself and the cobblestone that it hit.

The creature slid the statue along the ground, ramming it into Warren's side. Warren felt the air leave his lungs as he was thrown from his place, landing three feet away from where he was.

The creature slowly walked to Warren and would have attacked if not for the Blood-soaked Man, who stormed up behind the creature and leaped onto its back. Soon the serrated edge of the man's weapon was against the beast's throat, tearing it apart with one swift movement.

The beast swayed, then fell to the ground, with the Blood-soaked Man digging his blade into the beast's back for good measure. The man breathed heavily but quickly regained himself. He leapt off the creature's back and walked back to Warren, picking up the conversation where it left off.

"Funny. I am looking for someone too."

"What is their name?"

"You're not from Yharnam right?"

"Of course not. I hate this city."

"And what do you think of the Healing Church?"

"It has destroyed this town by worshiping demons. They use blood to pervert nature."

The Blood-soaked Man grunted in agreement, and though Warren couldn't see through the cloth on the man's face, he could tell that the man was smiling.

"You and me are going to get along great."

They reached the Healing Church with no further incident, save for Warren having to take a break to catch his breath while the Blood-soaked Man shook his head disapprovingly.

The entrance of the church opened up into a circular graveyard with a large statue protruding out of the center. Two giants in the church attire stamped around the area. Three exits could be seen, one one the left that lead down into darkness, one on the right that led up to light, and a center path that lead directly up into the Chapel of the Healing Church.

The Blood-soaked Man turned to face Warren, looking him dead in the eyes. When he spoke, there was not a drop of good will in his voice.

"Tell me. Who do you seek?"

"A sister. She left for the Healing Church long ago."

"What is her name?"

"Why does it-"

"Tell me her name or my help stops here."

"... Julia."

The Blood-soaked Man gave a slow nod before he spoke again, and he chose his words carefully.

"Good, good. Now, can you fight?"

"The beasts. Well, I suppose I can. Not by myself."

"Well learn quick then. You have seen me fight, you must do the same. Do not think when you fight. You must attack like an animal. They are beasts, and to defeat them you must also be a beast."

"To what end? If we are both beasts, then what separates us from them?"

The Blood-soaked Man gave a small chuckle.

"The only thing that will separate us, in the end, is which one is alive and which one is dead."

Warren followed the Blood-soaked man as he walked into the graveyard, crouching and sticking to the shadows of the wall to avoid the attention of the giants. The two quickly crept through past both graves and giants, heading down the path on the left. The path led down into a heavily fogged and dark road surrounded by stacked together housing, which Warren could only describe as a slum. As they walked down the road toward the church, a beast man on the ground tried to stand up and attack, but the Blood-soaked Man cut him down before it could rise.

The Blood-soaked Man led Warren to a door on the side of the road, almost hidden in the dark and tucked next to a chained coffin. The man opened the door with ease and quickly ushered Warren inside before closing the door behind him, shoving a chair under the handle as an extra measure.

The room inside the home was modest but cluttered to an unholy degree. All manner of clothes, books, bottles, and furniture filled the small house, and every one of them was covered in a thick layer of dust. This seemed to not bother the Blood-soaked Man as he walked past it all and head up a small stairway stuck between swaying pile of chairs and a pillar of books holding up the ceiling.

"Sir, where are we?"

"A friend's house. We need his help to get into the church."

"Surely the church has a front door."

"I wouldn't trust it, nor anything that has to do with the church. They started this mess, and they have done near nothing to fix it. Worse than nothing, they knew what was causing it and continued to give the blood. They figured the good of it outweighed the bad."

"Does it?"

The Blood-soaked Man remained quiet and continued up the steps. The pair soon arrived on a room overlooking the graveyard, where and an old woman, propped up in a wheelchair, looked down on what was below her.

"Who is there? I smell blood." Her voice was soft and dry but held a certain resilience that the old tend to gain.

"It's me, Gretta. And another."

The old woman turned her head slightly, took a smell of the air, then turned back to face the graveyard.

"He is not from here. What business does an outsider have in Yharnam?"

Warren cleared his throat before speaking. "Ma'am, I am here seeking a person I have lost a long time ago. This man tells me you can lead us into the church unnoticed."

The women gave a slow nod. "Yes, yes. I can. But not without something in return."

The blood-soaked man spoke this time. "What do you need Gretta?"

"Inside the church, they have a special blood that I need. Should be marked with my name on the vial. Bring that back to me when you are done with your business in the church."

Warren spoke. "I'm not sure that you s-"

"I will Gretta. Now please, if you would?"

"Humph. The door down is beneath the dresser. The glass in the dresser is broke to make a 'Y'."

"Thank you." The Blood-soaked Man grabbed Warren's arm and dragged him down the stairs, only letting go when they reached the bottom.

"Don't you dare judge us. This is why people hate outsiders so much."

"What do you mean? The blood will kill her!"

"Do you know how old she is? I bet she is older than most still alive in the city. The blood is a gift."

"How can you say that? Look what it has done!"

The Blood-soaked Man shoved Warren to the ground.

"Look at me! Where it not for the blood, I would be a cripple, bound to a wheelchair. You dare to judge us again, I will feed you to a beast myself!"

Warren bit his tongue, knowing full well the man would keep his promise.

Soon, the Blood-soaked Man found the dresser Gretta had mentioned and moved it away to reveal a small trapdoor. He opened it, and both the man and Warren descended into the darkness.


	3. Chapter 3

The underground corridors that led to the church stunk, and it was not of any shock to Warren when he discovered that he was, in fact, walking through a sewer. Neither of the two had a light source of any kind, so they were forced to walk in darkness. Neither talked as they did so; part them worrying about attracting some unsavory company and part the two having an argument a short time ago.

The Blood-soaked Man, who usually walked with a calm sureness, now seemed worried. He stopped often to look around, and Warren was amazed the man could even see in the dim of the sewers, least of all try to navigate.

After a long walk filled with dead ends and ungodly smells did the two finally reach their destination, a small wooden door with a lit torch next to it. The floor surrounding the door was littered with broken blood vials, needles, tubes, and strange rotting sphere Warren didn't want to look too closely at.

The Blood-soaked Man grabbed the handle of the door, pulled, and found it still closed. The two were able to make it inside after leaving the door a pile of splinters.

The pair found themselves in a large room crammed full of shelves. Each shelf was overflowing with vials of blood, with colors ranging from livid red to black, and the floor was stained with the same varying colors of red. Warren could see that the blood seemed to be effecting the man he was following.

"Will you be okay?"

The Blood-soaked Man shook his head. "You outsiders have no idea. The blood changed everything. Made us better. Healed us of our ailments." He gave a hungry look around the room before turning back to Warren. "Every drop in this room can be used for good."

"Then how did people become beasts?"

"Haste. The Church forced bad blood onto the people. In Yhar- Old Yharnam the same thing happened. Blood turned bad, beasts appeared, and hunters were called to take care of it. Tis all the Church's doing."

"So is that why you're here? To get back at the Church?"

"I already told you. I'm looking for someone. Now come on, we haven't time to waste."

Warren followed the Blood-soaked Man deeper into the Church, and witnessed the hundreds of empty beds and the disturbing lack of church members or any other person. Clothes and papers littered the ground, so it seemed like they had left in a hurry, taking only what they thought they would need. But they left the blood, so they must have thought to return someday.

Soon a voice began to echo the hallways of the church, quiet at first, but steadily getting louder as they neared it.

They entered a small bedroom and leaning over their bed praying was a Healing Church Nun. She wore the traditional black church garb and had a pair of glasses on her freckled face. Leaning against the bed beside her was a long black cane which seemed to have deep and equal cuts across the shaft of it. As the two entered, the nun looked over, scared and surprised, but soon her face only held the expression of scared.

"Well. Lady Demir. Just the woman I was hoping to find." The Blood-soaked man had taken off the cloth around his face, revealing a jagged grin, like that of a wolf staring at a lost sheep.

Lady Demir stood up and backed herself into the corner of the room farthest away from the man. In her hand she held the cane. "You. It hasn't been nearly long enough."

Warren could see that both were tense, both ready to strike first should the other pounce.

"You knew I had to be coming for you. Why bother to stay?"

"Because I stand by the Church. They needed someone to stay and watch over the blood. They asked me to assist."

"Are you certain it was not as punishment?"

The nun raised her cane, placing it in front of her as if it was a shield.

"That was not my fault. Anyone could have made that mistake."

"Yes. but it just so happened to be you."

Lady Demir seemed to just notice that Warren stood behind the Blood-soaked Man, looking confused by what he was seeing.

"So you brought help? Couldn't bother to fight me fair?"

"He has nothing to do with this. Just a stranger in need."

"I find it hard to think it was out of the kindness of your heart."

"So what if it wasn't? He is still alive isn't he?"

"For now."

Warren stepped forward between the two, holding out his saber to protect himself.

"Cease this. There is enough blood in the city. Any more will not help."

The Blood-soaked Man bared his teeth at Warren, then turned away.

"You don't understand what she did. She helped cause this mess."

Warren turned to face Lady Demir, who was still holding her cane between her and the two men.

"Is this true?"

"I- No one person caused this. Some blood is bad. These things happen. But it still does so much good. This will all come to pass."

"Lady, you have not seen outside of the Church. Beasts roam the streets. People are being slaughtered."

"This always happens during a Hunt. It will pass."

The Blood-soaked Man laughed at this. As he turned around, Warren could see, three small dark red pellets in the palm of his hand. The man only focused on Lady Demir.

"You don't even care, do you? What of the people that died? What about…" The man chuckled. "It doesn't matter."

He shoved the three pellets in his hand into his mouth, crushing them with his teeth. The Blood-soaked Man's breathing quickened until it was like the painting of a dog. He pulled out his weapon, leaving the serrated side open. When he spoke, it escaped through his clenched teeth like a growl.

"What's another body in this cursed city?"

He lunged at Lady Demir, and Warren hand to leap out of the way to avoid getting caught by him as well. Warren quickly stood himself back up, only to be backhanded by the raging man, flying him into a dresser in the corner.

Lady Demir held her ground, dancing around the Blood-soaked man and striking him with her cane whenever she could. The man swiped at her, but she rolled out of the way of the attack and countered, her cane stretching into a long, segmented whip that cut deep into the Blood-soaked Man's skin. He roared in pain and anger and attacked again, swiping in the air twice before connecting on the third swing. The serrated blade tore through Lady Demir's church garb, leaving a long red gash across her stomach. She gritted her teeth and began to fight with new vigor, the pain of her wound only giving her more strength.

Warren could only try to avoid being hit by their attacks. He tried to calm to two down, but whatever the Blood-soaked Man had eaten had made him lose all reason, and Lady Demir was not going to stop defending against his onslaught to have a chat. Warren, saber in hand, joined the fight.

Lady Demir, seeing that Warren was to join, doubled her efforts in the fight. Ever slash of her whip cut deep into both Warren and the Blood-soaked man, coating the walls and floors with both their blood. The Blood-soaked Man was able to get a few hits in as well, but his wild swing caught both Warren and Lady Demir. Warren fought with the careful patience of a novice, knowing that any wrong move or misstep could lead to his body being torn apart. He attacked when he could, aiming for Lady Demir, but after being hit twice by the raging man, Warren knew that he had no choice but to fight both of them at once.

Warren raised his saber to attack the Blood-soaked man from behind, but the Blood-soaked Man whipped around soon enough to slash his blade across Warren's legs, severing tendons and forcing him to the ground, bleeding and screaming.

Lady Demir gasped at the carnage, and that moment was all the Blood-soaked Man need to do the same to her, whipping around and tearing the flesh of her arms. She too fell to the ground.

The Blood-soaked Man dropped his blade on the ground and knelt atop her body, grasping her throat with his bloody hands.

"Finally. How many nights have I dreamed of this?" His hands tightened around her throat. "To finally kill you like you did to them, to finally see the life drain from your eyes?" Lady Demir grabbed at his arms, trying to pull him away, but to no avail. The Blood-soaked man smiled a blood-stained grin. "Die, you bitch."

Life drained from the man's eyes a blade pushed through his back and into his heart. His lungs began to fill with blood as his heart struggled against the blade now inside it. He coughed, blood spilling from his mouth, as he fell atop Lady Demir, the last of his blood soaking her church garb.

Warren pulled out his saber, his every breath a struggle. Lady Demir wiggled her way out from under the man's corpse, and the moment she did succeed Warren pointed his blade at her.

"Don't. Move." Every word hurt. His head felt dizzy.

"Please. Leave me be. The worse is passed."

"I-I-"

Warren fell to the ground, blood-loss and shock easing him into unconsciousness.


	4. Chapter 4

Warren awoke laying in one of the beds that he had passed by before. The pain he had felt was gone, but he still didn't feel right. His mind was trying to piece together what had happened during the fight. Looking over, he saw Lady Demir sitting on a chair near him, reading a book by candlelight.

"How are you feeling?" She closed her book and looked at him.

"I-I feel fine. My mind is in a rush though."

"Killing a man should never be taken lightly."

"Yet you were willing to kill him."

Lady Demir was silent. She dragged her chair over to Warren's bed and sat down. As she did, Warren realized that his arms and legs had been strapped down onto the bed.

"Why were you traveling with that man?"

"What does it matter? Untie me."

Lady Demir sighed, then pulled out a small blade from her robe and set it upon Warren's throat. Warren struggled to move away, yet the bindings held him in place.

"You snuck into the Church with a man who tried to kill me. If I untie you, you might try to do the same. Now-"

"I killed him! What does it matter?"

"Why were you with the man?"

"He helped me. Saved my life. We happened to be heading to the same place."

"Why did you want to come here?"

"I am looking for someone. A girl named Julia."

Lady Demir thought about this for a moment before lifting the knife off Warren's neck and slipping it back into her robes. She then began to take off the straps that bound him to the bed.

"You're not from the city are you?"

"How do you know?"

"Only a fool would travel around the city on the night of a hunt. You're not even blooded as a Hunter. You can only be an outsider."

She stood and walked over to a desk near the corner of the room, looking through it as she spoke. Warren sat up on the bed and rubbed his wrists, thankful that he was finally free. She pulled a small pocket book from the drawer and brought it over to Warren.

"As for this 'Julia' you seek, she cannot be here. I am the only one left. Those that left went to other towns and cities, to wait at the Healing Churches there."

"There are more? I thought Yharnam was the only one."

"You must have traveled a long way then. The Healing Church has brought the blood to many others, spreading the word of the Old Ones and their gift."

Warren bit his tongue, wanting to argue with the women about what the 'gift' had done to her city, but knew that he was not in a position to do such things.

"So, she's not even here?"

"If she is here, she would be in a state which you would not want to see."

"What's in the book?"

"This is a ledger, of where the members of the Church went to when they left."

She handed the book to him. It was bound in simple black leather with the symbol of the Healing Church stamped on the front, and the pages inside were filled with small, neat writing, detailing where the members of the church and their patients had gone.

After drifting through a few of the pages, Warren was found what he was looking for, written in the same neat handwriting.

 _Lamina, First Nun of the Healing Church, was sent along with Nuns Cathlee and Julia to look after patients at the Healing Church in the town of Ishmouth. They were given coinage for the journey, along with enough supplies to look after themselves and their patients. The Nuns are to return to Yharnam once the Hunt is done with their patients and tithe that the Ishmouth church has collected._

Warren stood up, and a sharp pain burned in his legs where they had been cut, but only for a moment.

"Do you have any maps?"

"Why? You cannot leave."

"What do you mean?"

"To contain the Hunt, Yharnam always closes all gates, and the Church has guards and Hunters surround the city."

"Then how did I get in?"

Lady Demir remained quiet.

"I think you have no idea how bad it is out there. I'm not from here, so I can't really say, but tonight can't be like the nights before."

"The Hunt has always happened. It is the Churches duty to cleanse the beasts."

"The beasts that they have created."

"Nothing is perfect. But with the blood, we will reach perfection. The blood is from the Old Ones, and with their power, we can transcend being human. We can become more."

"But at what price?"

She still remained quiet. Soon after she left the room, leaving Warren alone.

He looked through the book again, looking for any more information on Julia that he could find, but the ledger never made another mention of her. He then began to look up information on Ishmouth and the Healing Church there. Few passages referenced the town, but nothing with any valuable information came up. After having flipped through the book a number of times, Warren sighed and closed it in defeat.

He looked around the room, searching desks and beds to see if he could find any more useful information, but nothing came of it.

Warren found himself wandering the halls of the Church, looking for Lady Demir, but she seemed to have disappeared without a trace. The interior of the church was magnificent, the floor made of polished granite with an intricate design the stretched to the carved stone walls. Ever step Warren took echoed through the church, and he found himself often thinking of what the place might be like when filled with nuns and patients.

His wanderings lead him to the room with the Blood-soaked Man's body inside. He still lay on the ground with Warren's saber stabbed through his back. With as much respect for the dead man as he could muster, Warren pulled out the saber, then turned the man onto his back, crossing the man's cold hands on his chest. Contrary to how he was in his final moments, he now seemed somewhat peaceful, and Warren wondered if death was what the man had wanted all along, whether it be his own or the nuns.

Standing up to leave, a small white triangle poking out of the pocket of the man caught his eye, and he pulled it out to investigate.

The triangle was the end of a small photograph. In the picture was the man, much thinner than he was now, with his arm around a pretty women and his other hand resting on the shoulder of a small boy. The three all had polite smiles on their faces.

Warren slipped the picture into the hands of the Blood-soaked Man and left the room, closing the door behind him.

Lady Demir waited outside of the room, her arms filled with a small brown backpack. She handed the pack to Warren and motioned for him to follower her. She led him through the winding halls.

Warren opened the pack, and inside was a folded paper map, three vials filled with blood, and enough food to last for a day or two.

"Where are we going?"

"To the exit. It is time you left."

"But-"

"I will give you some supplies that should get you to Ishmouth, but don't waste too much time. If things are as bad as you say, the there is a chance it is happening in the other towns as well."

"Thank you."

The two arrived at a door the Lady Demir opened. Outside was a horse, prepared with a bit and saddle.

"Do not thank me. You killed the man who would have killed me. Let this be my repayment."

Warren mounted the horse and prepared to leave. The road ahead of him stretched deep into the city, and Warren could see a broken open gate at the end.

"You could leave with me. What is there for you here?"

Lady Demir sighed. "I owe it to the Church. The blood saved my life, brought me another chance to live. I became a nun because of that. If the city should fall, so be it. I will remain here, protecting what had saved me."

Warren nodded. "I understand. May God look over you."

"May the Blood guide you."

Warren left the city of Yharnam, pushing the horse as fast as it could go. He only stopped to look back after he had passed through the broken gate and saw the moon silhouetting the towers of the Church behind him.


	5. Chapter 5

p style="direction: ltr;"Warren ran the horse as fast as he could out of the bloody city of Yharnam, forcing the horse to continue for miles out to put as much distance as he could. The forests outside the city were no better. In the dark night, the twisted trees gave off the look of claws that reached out to the moon that hung in the sky, and Warren could swear he could see the eyes of the beastmen he left behind inbetween the trees. Watching him, hungrily./p  
p style="direction: ltr;"He pushed the horse nearly dead of exhaustion before stopping by a small stream on the side of the road. The horse laid down by the stream, gratefully lapping up the cool water. Warren leaned up against the horse, its warm body keeping the cold somewhat at bay./p  
p style="direction: ltr;"Warren could still smell the blood. It was soaked into his clothes and the smell only made it seem like the city was following him. He pulled out a silver necklace with a small cross hanging from it and clutched it tightly in his hands, the corners of it leaving marks on his palms. /p  
p style="direction: ltr;""I will find you, Julia. I promised mother that I would." His hands shook, and he couldn't tell whether it was from the cold or conviction. His promise to his now dead mother was what drove him. If he had not sworn on his own soul to his mother to find his sister, he would likely still be at home, preparing to take charge of the estate now that he was the oldest member of the family still alive. /p  
p style="direction: ltr;"He left as soon as his mother had finally passed. He couldn't spend another moment in that house, not with the statues and paintings staring at him, judging him for his inaction. He wondered to himself if he had known what Yharnham was like if he would have gone. He found that he couldn't answer./p  
p style="direction: ltr;"The horse had fallen asleep. Warren could tell by its slow breathing and the steady beating of its heart. He leaned back against the horse, turning his head up to the sky./p  
p style="direction: ltr;"Stars littered the dark sky, with the occasional moonlit cloud drifting in from of them. He still held the cross in his hand as he prayed./p  
p style="direction: ltr;""Father God, guide me to Julia. Protect and watch over me." His small words seemed lost in the cold night air. He felt alone, more than he ever had before. He felt his eyes begin to close, and before he could think to stop them, he fell into a dark sleep./p  
p style="direction: ltr;"When he awoke, the sun had just begun to creep above the tree line. The cold of the night had turned into mist, which clogged the trees and blocked out the sight of anything over a few yards. Warren stretched out, his joint crackling. The horse let out an impatient huff. Warren stood, stretching again and mounted the horse. He still had a long way to go to Ishmouth, and he only hoped that the road signs were pointing him in the right direction. /p  
p style="direction: ltr;"It was near night again when he could see what he hoped was Ishmouth. The road he was on had turned to follow alongside a beach, and in the last mile, the road had disappeared under the sand. The waves of the ocean, something that should be calming, was sinister and harsh and sounded to Warren like someone beating another person with a hollow stick. /p  
p style="direction: ltr;"Ishmouth itself was built unto the sand, which left many of its small huts and homes lopsided. In the center of the town, stretching above the humble homes and the forest next to the beach sat a church, with the same architecture as Yharnam. Warren's hands shook in the reins as he looked at the twisted statues and sharp point jut into the sky, almost like a challenge to God himself. He could see lights in the windows, and every now and then, a shadow passing through the light. His excitement was tempered with fear. Julia could be looking down at him right now from one of those windows, all he had to do was rise up to the church doors. He swallowed any remaining fear as best as he could and began to head into the town./p  
p style="direction: ltr;"Now closer to the small huts, he could see that the word hut or shack was too kind for them. Each one seemed to be made from rotting driftwood and stuck together with thick tar. A smell clung in the air, a sour mix of fish and burning coal that made it hard to breathe. /p  
p style="direction: ltr;"Warren stopped the horse as he saw a figure in the center of the road, covered in a ratty shawl and hunched over a body. He dismounted, leaving a hand on his blade as he approached./p  
p style="direction: ltr;""Excuse me."/p  
p style="direction: ltr;"The hunched figure was muttering quietly. "The Blood will sustain you, my friend. I can smell that you have already taken some within you. Not our sour blood, but blood all the same'" It took Warren a moment to realize that the figure was talking to the body in front of it, ignoring Warren's words./p  
p style="direction: ltr;""Excuse me, are you alright?"/p  
p style="direction: ltr;""The Church has locked itself away, content to let us rot and bleed. They keep out blood, growing fat like leeches."/p  
p style="direction: ltr;"Warren took a step back. Whoever this person was, they were already gone. He said a silent prayer and went back to his horse, taking it by the reins and leading it through the city by foot. As he passed the figure, he heard it speak again./p  
p style="direction: ltr;""The witch will pour the blood into the sea, and you will be back again, my friend. I promise you, by the Blood."/p  
p style="direction: ltr;"Warren continued on, trying to decipher if the words were truth or fever induced insanity. He was almost scared with himself that he had to wonder./p 


End file.
